


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by sequence_fairy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trees disappeared into swirling clouds of white, and Rose’s stomach clenched with fear. In this weather, she could walk right past the TARDIS and never know it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [dwsecretsanta](http://tmblr.co/mG-5LYhpFhQzz_wlO1SNtEQ) fic exchange on tumblr! My gift for [angeldoc](http://tmblr.co/mqmsiL3AQixnfCHg59T0PeA)! Hope you like it sweets. Beta'd by the ever lovely [thedoctordanceswithrose](http://tmblr.co/mXlJou6M0c7YAKejM4iCRXg)

The snow fell heavily; its soft weight muffling the noise of the forest until all Rose could hear was her own breathing and the sound of snowflakes landing on evergreen boughs. She tugged the wool toque down over her hair more firmly and shoved her mitten-clad hands back into the pockets of her coat, tucking her chin down into the scarf wrapped around her neck.

She trudged on through the forest; through drifts that were higher than her knees and burst into swirls of flakes as she broke their crested tops. Her breath fogged the air in front of her, but she continued on through the storm. The wind lifted the snow, sending it swirling around her, obliterating her surroundings in brief whiteouts. Rose slitted her eyes against the spray of fine crystalline snow on the wind and kept moving.

She knew she couldn’t stop and was glad her feet were warm in the boots the Doctor’d dug out of a closet in the TARDIS. Stopping in this storm would mean death as the snow piled down, and the wind kicked up. She could hear a howling in the distance and had a breath of warning before the full force of the storm barreled through the forest. 

The trees disappeared into swirling clouds of white, and Rose’s stomach clenched with fear. In this weather, she could walk right past the TARDIS and never know it. She cursed her inability to leave well enough alone and wished instead that she’d stayed inside with the Doctor, handing him tools as he worked on one of the temporal gyroscopes that had been knocked loose on their cross-universe adventure. She wished she hadn’t left with the echo of their heated voices in her ears and the image of him standing at the console, shoulders hunched, as if she’d struck him with more than words.

She huddled further down into her coat, drawing the scarf up more firmly over her face, and continued on. The wind howled around her, and she heard the creak of the trees overhead. Under that though, behind it and buried in it, was another sound.

_Rose!_

Her name, from far away, and Rose had to strain to hear it over the storm.

_Rose! I’m coming!_

She stopped walking and turned in a slow circle, gritting her teeth against the frigid chill of the wind. The voice came again, stronger, and this time Rose caught the direction. She stepped to the right and listened again for the voice.

“Rose!” The voice was closer, and in between squalling snowflakes, she could make out the dim flash of light through the trees. “Rose! Where are you?”

“I’m here!” Rose yelled back, a sudden burst of energy fizzing through her blood, making her legs move faster than they had been before.

The beam of light cut through the snow, and as Rose drew closer, she could see it was a flashlight. She could barely make out the silhouette holding the light, but the tails of the coat swirling around his legs gave him away.

“Doctor!” she called, and the beam of light swept through the snow and across her face.

“Rose!” he crowed, and plunged through the snow to her. When he reached her, the Doctor gathered her to him in a hug. She tucked her face into the lapel of his coat, grateful for the solid feel of him. He’d wrapped a ridiculous scarf around his own neck and squashed his hair down with a hideous orange toque.

“You found me,” she said, lifting her face from his coat.

“I found you,” he said. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to him. “Let’s get back to the TARDIS.”

The walk back to the time ship was slow. Rose leaned into the Doctor and let him guide them through the storm. He paused, turning his head left and right before a gust of wind filled their field of vision with white. The beam on the flashlight faltered. The Doctor banged it against his gloved hand, and it flickered again feebly before dying completely. They were left in the dark, the blizzard raging around them.

“Damn it,” the Doctor swore, gripping Rose’s hand tightly. He pocketed the flashlight. “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

They continued on, taking shelter from the brutal wind on the leeside of a great fir tree, its branches weighed down by the snow. Rose could feel her cheeks tingling from the onslaught of the wind, and she could feel the cold seeping through into her feet.

“Doctor?” Rose asked, impressed that her teeth didn’t knock together. “How much further?” To her own ears, her voice sounded plaintive and small. The Doctor looked down at her, and something fierce lit his eyes as he tugged her scarf up over her face.

“Almost Rose,” he said, “I promise. We just have to keep going.”

“I’m tired,” Rose said. The Doctor looked sharply down at her, brows drawing together.

“Chin up, buttercup,” he said jovially, waggling his eyebrows. Rose rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked in half a grin.   “We’ll be home soon!” He took his bearings and grabbed her hand again, squeezing her fingers. “This way.”

Rose followed obediently as the wind howled on, and the snow piled down. They walked for a long time, the Doctor pausing now and again as if to listen for something. Rose strained her ears, but could hear nothing. She’d started shivering, teeth chattering and her whole body shuddering. A particularly strong gust of wind pulled at her toque, and she clapped her hand down on her head to keep it on.

“Rose,” the Doctor said, when they stopped again beside another big tree, “can you squeeze my hand?”

Rose complied, her fingers feeling clumsy and useless in her mitten. The Doctor tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her, and trapping her hands between them. Rose tucked her face into the scarf around his neck, grateful to be out of the wind. They stayed like that until Rose’s shivering subsided. The Doctor released her and dug into his pocket, pulling out the sonic screwdriver.

He flicked through a couple of settings and pointed it at the trees. He scanned around them in a circle and then shook his head. He did the scan again, and Rose chafed her hands and stamped her feet to keep her blood moving. She felt sluggish and tired, but the shivering had stopped, which she thought was a good sign.

“We need to find somewhere to wait out the storm,” the Doctor called over the once again increasing howl of the wind. “The TARDIS is too far away for the sonic to pick up.”

There was a crack overhead, and Rose didn’t have time to think before the Doctor shoved her to one side, narrowly leaping out of the way of the falling branch himself. The branch landed where Rose had been standing with a  _whumpf_ , sending snow flying all around them.

Rose landed in a snowdrift, and struggled back to her feet. Snow slipped under the collar of her coat and down her back in an icy path. “Doctor!” she called, searching the snowy darkness for the orange toque. “Doctor!”

His head popped up from the other side of the fallen branch, and he grinned. “I’m alright, Rose. You?”

“I’m good, yeah,” she answered, her heart thudding in her chest. The adrenaline of the near miss warmed her blood, sending spikes of heat to her extremities, and she winced at the pins and needles in her toes.  Her shivering began anew, spurred on by the dousing of snow she’d gotten when the Doctor pushed her into the drift.

The Doctor fired up the sonic again, and this time his eyes brightened and he reached for her across the fallen log. “There’s some kind of shelter this way,” he said, and helped her climb over the log.

They trudged on through the darkness, and soon came upon a small, nearly fallen down cabin.

“Hello the house!” The Doctor called as they approached, but there was no answer. Rose could see no light from within. He tugged her along to the porch and used the sonic on the lock, letting them in out of the storm.

The cabin was dark, and the wind howled around the eaves and through the cracks in the walls and the paneless windows. Snow swirled in the corners of the room and Rose shivered. They were sheltered from the worst of the wind, but it was still bitterly cold inside. The Doctor used the sonic as a flashlight, sweeping the beam around the whole room. In one corner was a small, pot-bellied woodstove and a pile of wood beside it. He grinned at Rose, and together they got the fire going.

The Doctor made Rose sit in front of the stove, as close as she dared, holding her mitten-clad hands towards the heat. At first it was feeble, but soon the dry wood caught in earnest and the fire danced merrily. The Doctor was rummaging through the cabin behind her, and Rose ignored him in favour of pulling off her mittens and her hat. She laid the woolen garments on the floor in front of her, hoping to get them to dry.

“Aha!” came the Doctor’s triumphant cry behind her, and she heard the strike of a match before the cabin was bathed in a soft light. “Good old hurricane lantern,” he said, depositing the lantern on the floor in the middle of the cabin and then gathering an armful of what Rose thought might be blankets.

“You need to get out of those wet things, Rose,” the Doctor said, unwrapping the scarf from his own neck and dropping it in a heap in front of the stove to join Rose’s mittens and hat. Rose unwound her own scarf and shrugged out of her coat as well. She could feel the heat from the stove on her cheeks, and the Doctor beckoned her closer to the lamp.

He handed her a blanket to wrap herself in, then pinched both her cheeks hard. Rose winced and couldn’t contain the whimper of pain. The Doctor looked at her critically, and Rose felt a flush wash through her. “No frostbite,” he declared. “Well, a little, but not enough to be worried about. We can fix it with the dermal regenerator when we get back to the TARDIS.”

“Frostbite?” Rose asked, bringing her hands up to her cheeks.

“We were in the wind too long for your skin,” the Doctor replied, “but like I said, only a little. And we can fix it when we get back to the TARDIS.” He settled his hands on Rose’s shoulders. “Go and sit by the fire, I’ll see if I can find something to warm you up.”

Rose took a seat in front of the stove again, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She tugged her boots off and laid them down so the heat would reach the inside, wrapping another blanket around her legs and tucking her feet inside. She listened as the Doctor moved around behind her. The sonic whirred, and there was a splash of something into a mug. She listened as his footsteps crossed the floor and he came to a stop beside her. She looked up, and he handed her a mug, its contents steaming.

Rose took the mug, her hands wrapped greedily around it to absorb the warmth, and the Doctor sank down beside her after stoking the fire. Rose brought the mug to her lips, blowing across the surface to cool it before sipping carefully. The hot liquid warmed her all the way down and bled out into her toes. It tasted like warm spices, with a hint of tea and something fiery that Rose couldn’t name.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as the Doctor swallowed his own mouthful and settled more comfortably on the floor.

“A little of this, a little of that,” the Doctor answered cryptically. “Just drink it Rose, it’ll help warm you up.”

They sat side by side, the silence comfortable between them. The brew  _was_  warming; a little ball of molten something curled in Rose’s belly and spread out through her whole body. The Doctor finished his mug and set it carefully on the floor beside himself. He got to his feet and fed the fire again, the light from the stove washing the cabin in red-gold light. He turned the lamp down low and carried it to the counter along the back wall of the cabin, before returning to his place beside Rose on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, “about before. I didn’t think–“

“No, you didn’t,” the Doctor interrupted, then sighed, scrubbing his face with one hand. He looked at her, and Rose returned his gaze. His eyes were dark, lit by the light of the stove.

“Well if you’re going to be an arse about it—“

“No, Rose, I’m sorry,” he said, looking down, then away. “I could have lost you. You can’t just do things like take on Hyxlian ninjas. Bravery is not always sticking your neck out, sometimes it’s knowing when not to fight.”

“How was I supposed to know he was a—a Hyrulian—“

“Hyxlian. Hyxlian ninja, Rose, trained in their secret arts of combat and capable of breaking all your bones with one hand.”

“Hyxlian, then,” Rose amended. “Still though, how was I supposed to know? It’s not like they wear bloody signs or anything,” she huffed. “He threatened you.”

“I can take care of myself,” the Doctor answered, and Rose turned to face him. His eyes met hers, and Rose grabbed his hand.

“I  _know_  that,” she said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to help.”

The Doctor said nothing. He was silent for a long time—such a long time that Rose tried to tug her hand from his grip, but he squeezed it to keep her from letting go. “Rose,” he rasped, “I can’t— _I won’t_ —lose you.”

“I promised you forever, Doctor. I mean to keep my promise,” she said. “What makes you think  _I_  can lose  _you_?” she asked fiercely. “You don’t hold a monopoly on wanting to keep someone safe. Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. I’m not, and I wouldn’t be here if I was.”

“Rose, I know you’re not made of glass,” he hedged. “It’s just, you know—“

“I’m human? And less indestructible than you?”

“Exactly,” the Doctor answered. “You think you can do these things, but you just can’t Rose, and I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You won’t let me get hurt? You won’t  _let_ me get hurt?” Rose cried. “Doctor, I chose to be here with you, and I’ll choose it again and again. I know what I’m getting myself into,” she said. There was anger simmering beneath the surface of that cool-eyed stare he was giving her, but Rose was not one to back down. “You don’t get to choose for me Doctor,” she declared.

He glared at her. “Yes I do! You’re my responsibility!”

“Responsibility?! You make me seem like a child,” Rose snarled. “I am not a child. Do NOT treat me like one.”

“Rose,” the Doctor began, lifting his hands in surrender, “I’m sorry. I just want you safe. Can you understand that? I couldn’t stand to see you hurt, or  _worse_.” The bleakness in his eyes froze all the warmth in Rose’s gut. “Especially knowing that if I’d asked you to stay behind, you’d have been safe.” He reached for her, and Rose let him take her hand in his.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay. I’ll try to be less reckless.” The Doctor smiled. “But only if you agree to it, too,” she added. His smile dimmed, but Rose held his gaze. Finally, he nodded.

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll try.”

“You don’t get to just choose for me, either,” Rose said, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “If you think it’s too dangerous, tell me. We can figure it out together. Just don’t—don’t leave me behind. I couldn’t bear it if you never came back.”

“It’ll be you that leaves me behind. There’ll be a day when you won’t want to run anymore, when this life won’t be what you wanted.” Weariness suffused the Doctor’s features, and he seemed to curl into himself. “I’ll have to go on alone.”

“I’ll never not want to run with you Doctor,” Rose said, lifting her hand to cup his face. “This life, it’s brilliant.” Rose grinned, “I love it. The travelling, the adventures, the running, all of it. Don’t think for one second that I wouldn’t always choose this.”

“You won’t live forever Rose,” the Doctor said, turning his head. Rose dropped her hand to her lap.

“No, I won’t,” she answered, and he looked at her sharply, “but I mean to do all the living that I can in the time that I’ve got.”

After a long silence, the Doctor nodded and snuggled an arm around her waist, drawing her in for half a hug. Rose felt the tension melt between them, and leaned her head on his shoulder. The heat from the stove had warmed her through. She set her mug down, and gestured at the orange toque.

“Where did you get that from?” she asked. “That has got to be the ugliest colour I have ever seen.”

“I’ll have you know Rose, the toque is a traditional head adornment in this country, they wear them all year. Even in the summer! Why, when I was here years ago—”

Rose let the Doctor’s voice wash over her, and  nodded off, curled into the Doctor’s side as he waxed poetic on the subject of toques.


End file.
